Darcy

Despite the scathing comments expressed by Miss Bingley in her attempts to dissuade him from any interest in Miss Elizabeth, Darcy continued to watch the fascinating woman.

The cards in his hand and those on the table left little interest for him while Miss Elizabeth graced the party with her company.

Darcy could tell, from the tone of Miss Bingley's voice when she discussed Miss Elizabeth's love of books that she meant to fix in his mind the popular opinion that bookish women must neglect their appearance. As it was, with the woman before him, he saw not one piece of evidence to support such popular opinion. On the contrary, Miss Elizabeth had taken much care with her appearance this evening—as opposed to the state of her muddied petticoat when he first came upon her this morning.

He remained undecided as to his opinion on her walking alone across the countryside. True, he would frown upon his younger sister behaving in such a way. But then he reminded himself that it most unlikely that Miss Elizabeth would come across another person whilst walking the fields between the properties. Why, had he not startled her at his own approach. Then perhaps, it should not distress him so, the thought of a woman walking the fields alone.

It did appear to agree with Miss Elizabeth. He could not help but remember the flush of her skin and the brightness of her eyes at the exertion.

"Is Miss Darcy much grown since the spring?" Miss Bingley asked as she placed another card on the table. "Will she be as tall as I am?"

Darcy looked up at Miss Elizabeth and took the opportunity to move the conversation away from Miss Bingley, "I think she is now about Miss Elizabeth Bennet's height, or rather taller."

"Oh," Miss Bingley said, "How I long to see her again. I never met with anybody who delighted me so much. Such a countenance, such manners and so extremely accomplished for her age."

"It is amazing to me," Bingley said, "how young ladies can have patience to be so very accomplished, as they all are."

"All young ladies are accomplished," Miss Bingley said to her brother, "what do you mean?"

"They all paint tables, cover screens and net purses. I scarcely know any one who cannot do all this and I am sure I have never heard of a young lady spoken of for the first time without being informed that she was very accomplished."

"Your list of the common extent of accomplishments," Darcy said "has too much truth. The word is applied to many a woman who deserve it no otherwise than by covering a purse. But I am very far from agreeing with you in your estimate of ladies in general. I cannot boast of knowing more than half a dozen, in the whole range of my acquaintance, that are really accomplished."

"Nor I, I am sure," agreed Miss Bingley.

"Then," said Miss Elizabeth staring straight at Darcy, "you must comprehend a great deal in your idea of an accomplished woman."

"Indeed, I do," he said. Never before had Darcy met any woman who would have the courage of Miss Elizabeth to challenge his opinions.

A silence fell across the room while Darcy waited for Miss Elizabeth's response.

Unable to contain herself, Miss Bingley cried, "Oh, certainly, no one can be really esteemed accomplished, who does not greatly surpass what is usually met with. A woman must have a thorough knowledge of music, singing, drawing, dancing and the modern languages to deserve the word; and besides all this, she must possess a certain something in her air and manner of walking, the tone of her voice, her address and expressions."

All outward features, Darcy mused that Miss Bingley herself possessed, but what of the inner workings of her mind. That which Darcy found so fascinating about Miss Elizabeth.

"All this she must possess," Darcy said, "and to all this she must yet add something more substantial, in the improvement of her mind by extensive reading." Miss Elizabeth's eyes had never left his own during the entire exchange and, if she were not playing some kind of high stakes card game with him, he would be neither the wiser as to what might be going on behind that most fascinating expression on her face.

"I am no longer surprised," Miss Elizabeth replied, "at your knowing only six accomplished women. I rather wonder now at your knowing any."

"Are you so severe upon your own sex," Darcy asked, "as to doubt the possibility of all this?"

"I never saw such a woman," Miss Elizabeth said, "I never saw such capacity, and taste, and application, and elegance, as you described, united."

"Why we have seen plenty," Miss Bingley said to Mrs Hurst, "have we not, sister?"

"Certainly, there are many women who meet Mr Darcy's standards," Mrs Hurst agreed.

Mr Hurst slapped his cards down on the table drawing the attention of the entire room.

"Can we leave these discussions and not bring your attention to the game at hand," he complained bitterly.

It was with much regret that Darcy watched Miss Elizabeth return to her reading and shortly thereafter excuse herself from the room without further engagement in conversation.

When she had gone, Miss Bingley said, "Eliza Bennet is one of those young ladies who seek to recommend themselves to the other sex, by undervaluing their own and with many men I dare say it succeeds. But in my opinion, it is a paltry device, a very mean art."

"Undoubtedly," replied Darcy. He felt an unexplainable and overwhelming need to defend Miss Elizabeth from Miss Bingley's continual, scathing attacks. "There is meanness in all the arts which ladies sometimes condescend to employ for captivations. Whatever bears affinity to cunning is despicable."

These comments put end to the conversation and the game of cards continued in silence until Miss Elizabeth entered the room once more.

"I fear my sister's health has worsened," she said. Darcy noted lines of worry creasing her face and could not help but admire her devotion to her sister.